QLFC (Final) Round 9: Much Ado About Nothing
by corvusdraconis
Summary: Quidditch League Fanfiction Contest (Season 3) Round 9 Entry. Prompt: Much Ado About Nothing. [SS/HG] [Draco/Astoria] Draco drags Severus to the wedding dais to be a witness to his second attempt to marry Astoria Greengrass. Based on Much Ado About Nothing, by William Shakespeare.


**Team:** Pride of Portree

 **QLFC Round 9, Season 3: (Beater 1) Prompt:** Much Ado About Nothing

15\. (dialogue) "That is literally the worst thing ever!"

2\. (word) deceit

3\. (spell) Obliviate

 **Beta Love:** fluffpanda, whose weather is utterly mean to her. Hug her!

 **Passive Aggressive Wrangler:** Story Please

 **A/N:** Phrases in italics are quotes directly from the play, which belong to William Shakespeare.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

 **Much Ado About Nothing**

Severus Snape was not one for weddings. Unfortunately, this time, not only was he forced to attend, but he also had to actively _participate_. Draco Malfoy was bound and determined to wed Astoria Greengrass after he'd epically failed at the first attempt. He had moved Heaven and Earth to make up for his botched attempt at a wedding and repair the damages from when the first go had incurred. Draco's first Herculean task had been to secure Severus as a witness in his wedding. Needless to say, Draco almost literally had to drag the Dark wizard kicking and screaming to the marriage dais. Forcing him into a tuxedo was another battle altogether, but even Draco had to admit that the greasy dungeon bat looked rather classy.

Astoria, who had been a victim of a certain Weasley's prank, which had gotten out of hand so badly that it had utterly prevented the wedding, had been labelled as unfaithful to her fiancée. She had supposedly been seen in the arms of an anonymous amorous suitor from the Ministry of Magic. Fred and George had confessed to the prank when the Malfoys had nearly gone on the warpath and destroyed the Greengrass' assets and reputation in the Wizarding world, stating, "We had no idea it would get this far. We thought… we thought if they really loved each other, they'd have a laugh, ya? We thought they would think the rumours were completely unfounded and tell everyone to bugger off like they always do! Merlin, we never thought Draco would take it serious!"

Draco, having been embarrassed as all hell that he had, indeed, taken reports of Astoria's infidelity serious, had felt even more ashamed that he had laid her low in front of countless people on the day of their initial wedding. Astoria, stricken with shock, had fainted dead away on the wedding dais in front of the Minister of Magic and countless others.

Astoria had been reported dead by her family a few days later, as she was unable to live with the shame of the embarrassment she'd caused for her family, friends, and reputation. Days after this, amidst a flurry of Daily Prophet special editions, Astoria's uncle and father had challenged Draco to a duel of honour, citing the oldest of Wizarding traditions, so obscured by history that no one had bothered to strike them from the law books. No one could deny them. The laws had been pulled up, poured over, and lamented. Draco had been forced to accept. He would be required to duel them both at the same time as a matter of family honour for the death of their kin. One family member for the death of his daughter. One family member for the slight to their family name and honour.

"Truth," the Greengrasses had seethed at Draco, "will set us free."

As it turned out, they had been right. The truth did set them free. In a flurry of Daily Prophet feeding drama, Fred and George had come out in public stating that it had been a prank that sparked the horrible affair. Astoria had been innocent. The vision of her with a suitor had been a gift from a special daydream potion they had "tested" on Draco. They had figured it would give him some naughty dream of Draco and Astoria together or other such thing that would be so ludicrous that they couldn't have possibly believed it, but instead, the dream had been all too convincingly real. It had been real enough to make Draco think his fiancée was cheating on him.

The only thing that had kept Draco from hexing the twins on the spot was their revealing that Astoria wasn't truly dead. They had found her, having poisoned herself with a potion and whisked her away to St. Mungo's to be cared for in secret. The poison bottle was what had made her family think she had killed herself, which had, in turn, caused the family to challenge Draco to a duel of honour.

Fred and George, having had realised that the mess that they had created was only getting worse, stepped up and took the blame. Amazingly enough, Astoria's family was so happy that she was alive, Draco was so happy to have been wrong, Lucius and Narcissa were so happy that they might one day actually have grandchildren, and the public was so happy for a fairy tale-esque ending that everything had not ended with the twins in Azkaban and Draco dead to a duel of honour.

The Ministry of Magic, however, had banned Fred and George from crafting potions on their own without a Master to oversee their work, and the two mollified Weasley twins had agreed that all of their potions had to be signed off by none other than Severus Snape before any marketing could be done. Mischief, apparently, was to be managed by their once dreaded Potion Master.

Severus, truth be told, had thought the end of the Dark Lord would be the end of drama in his life. It seemed, however, that drama kept showing up like an unwanted house guest that raided the pantry, ate all the chocolate chip cookies, drank all the tea, and then passed out half-naked and snoring on the davenport in the sitting room. He had loathed to admit it, but he had really begun to look forward to when a certain bushy-haired house guest had ended up passed out on his couch after they engaged in deep conversation over a plate of his homemade chocolate chip cookies.

He had come to… _cherish_ their conversations and the ease with which he could speak with her now that she was a professor in her own right with her own mastership. He had felt a stab of something akin to pain as she had rested her head against his shoulder and fallen asleep as he read from the latest _Journal of Agrimony_. He had only recently begun to admit to himself that he wanted to confess the tenderness he felt for her, no matter the fact that it was infinitely embarrassing. He'd even wrote a poem, in _Latin_ , about the colour of her eyes and the way her hair shimmered in the sun. Less than a second later, he had called himself an imbecile and threw it across the room.

He told himself that he should remain happy with her being his colleague, his confidant, and his friend. He had ruined so much less than what he had with this witch with one ill-timed word. She had grown into her own, matured into a powerful and commanding witch, and for some inexplicable reason she chose to spend every evening reading and having tea with him while grading a pile of horribly written papers and assignments. It would have pushed the patience of Gandhi.

He had tried to tell himself that he was mad at her for sleeping on his couch all the time, but a part of him knew that it wasn't that she was sleeping on his couch all the time that bothered him. What truly bothered him was that she wasn't sleeping next to him, snoring into his ear, drooling on his shoulder, and filling that empty space both beside him in bed and in the depths of his atrophied heart. He wanted to be there for Hermione. He would never muck it up like Draco did. Hermione was so utterly Gryffindor and tenaciously loyal on top. Even if she had been with someone else, he could never see her as the one to be unfaithful. She had stayed with Ronald Weasley, after all, until the moment he had broken it off saying he had fallen in love with his Auror partner.

Hermione, perhaps having sensed that the love in their relationship had not been enough, had quietly moved out, and it was then that Minerva had pounced on her like a lurking Nundu in the grass, swept her up in an Apprenticeship, and taken her under her feline paw until every whisper of Hogwarts was significant to her. Hermione had completed a dual Apprenticeship under Severus at the same time, sharing custody rights between the two until she could transfigure all manner of things without a wand or a voice, and she could brew every potion he had ever tried to teach her backwards, forwards, and blindfolded.

Hermione had confessed to him that she felt much more at peace being back at Hogwarts over the political minefield working at the Ministry of Magic had been. She had felt that change was something that could only be instigated in the youth rather than trying to rattle change out of the cages of the adults wizards. Severus had argued that change in the dunderheads infesting Hogwarts was akin to herding cats, and one had only to try and convince Minerva that the sky was blue when she believed it was purple to know how that would turn out. They had both agreed to disagree.

Draco's marriage relationship drama had spurred Severus to question Hermione's and his feelings towards each other. Lucius, Narcissa, and Minerva had all swore up and down that Hermione's love for him was absurdly obvious. Why was it that everyone but Severus could see it so plainly?

Severus, Master of Denial, scoffed at them. She was young and talented, and he had no doubt that the list of eligible suitors would be knocking down the door if only Hermione let it be known she was looking. He knew for a fact that Viktor Krum still wrote to her, hoping she would come join him in Bulgaria during the summer breaks. For some unknown reason, Hermione expressed no interest in relationships, and it was that fact that egged on the little voice in the back of his head that the last person Hermione Granger, Heroine of the Second Wizarding War, would want to spend her life with was an older, brooding Potion Master. He was, by his admission, too far set in his ways to change quickly for anyone— even if he did want to, for her.

He stared at the witches covered in white veils standing in attendance to Astoria as she took her nuptials, and wondered which one was Hermione. Their outfits and veils were all identical, hiding their hair and identifying characteristics with traditional charmed uniformity. Astoria had insisted that Hermione stand as witness to her wedding, as it had been Hermione's variant of Remedy Against Rare Poisons that St Mungo's had used in curing her. It had been the same remedy she had secretly crafted in her quest to create a cure for basilisk venom after Harry's incident in the Chamber of Secrets. It had been the remedy she had poured down Severus' throat to save his life so many years ago. She had worked on it as her Master's project, refined it, perfected it, and apparently it had been approved to be used at St Mungo's— perhaps the highest accolade a potioneer could attain.

Severus looked up again and noticed that Kingsley had wrapped both Draco and Astoria's wrists and hands together in ribbon-like cords. He held their hands together for a moment before releasing them, introducing them as husband and wife. There was a great deal of cheering and celebrating going on the moment Kingsley finished saying the words, and the Minister of Magic simply shook his head and nodded to them to go mingle. The new couple and the gaggle of veiled witches followed behind her.

Kingsley approached him after a while. "Draco finally managed to get you in a tux, Severus," Kingsley said with a grin.

The Potion Master scowled. "I prefer my robes. At least I feel like I can breathe in them."

"I'm sure you do, but," Kingsley said, "if I do say so myself, the tux looks very good on you."

Severus rolled his eyes.

"So, when do I get you up up on that dais, Severus? Isn't it about time you stopped lying to yourself?" Kingsley asked.

"I'm sure I have absolutely no idea what you mean," Severus said with a sniff, turning his aquiline nose to the side.

"Come now, Severus," Kingsley said. "I was an Auror long before I was Minister of Magic. You are not a spy anymore. There are some things even I can see."

"She is young," Severus said quietly, almost meekly.

"Old enough to know her mind," Kings chuckled. "She could wrangle politicians with the sharpness of her wit and tongue. She is more than capable, I think, of knowing what she wants or _whom_."

"She does not, cannot possibly love someone like me," Severus argued.

"Why don't you ask her, instead of presuming, hmm?" Shacklebolt said with a gentle smile. "Why is it that the master spy is so great at reading others, but can't see what is right in front of his face?"

"I blame my nose," Severus said blandly, tapping his finger to the tip of his nose.

"Psh, good at sniffing out troublemakers and deceit, but not so good at sniffing out love," Kingsley scoffed. " _Ask her_ , Severus."

Severus fidgeted. "I would rather _Obliviate_ you and pretend this conversation never happened."

"You stood before the Dark Lord and lied to his face," Kingsley scoffed, "and yet tremble at the very thought of asking a fine witch her mind. She loves you, you thick-headed wizard. I swear it."

"So help me, Kingsley," Severus said. "I will figure out a way to wandlessly and soundlessly cast _Obliviate_ and relieve you of your meddlesome malarkey."

Kingsley seemed to pout. "Ask her, you stubborn man," he cajoled. "Just ask her, and I won't bother you again."

"Promise?" Severus asked all too quickly.

"About this matter," Shacklebolt elaborated, arching a brow.

Severus turned his head and took in a deep breath.

" _Soft and fair_ , Minister. Which is Hermione?" Severus asked, tilted his head at the identically clad witches.

One of the witches turned at his voice and pulled off the charmed veil, revealing familiar brown curls and expressive brown eyes. " _I answer to that name. What is your will?_ "

Severus braced himself for impact. "Do you love me?"

" _Why no,_ " Hermione said, tilting her head, " _no more than reason._ "

"Why, then Shacklebolt has been deceived," he said with a frown. "He swore you did."

" _Do not you love me?_ " Hermione asked, staring into his black eyes.

" _Troth, no,_ " Severus replied coldly, " _no more than reason_."

" _Why, then, Lucius and Narcissa are much deceived_ ," Hermione answered, " _for they did swear you did_."

" _Potter swore that you were almost sick for me_ ," Severus challenged.

" _They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me,_ " she replied.

"' _Tis no such matter,_ " Severus replied with a sniff. " _Then you do not love me?_ "

" _No, truly,_ " Hermione said, turning her face away from him, " _but in friendly recompense._ "

" _Come, Hermione,_ " Kingsley admonished, " _I am sure you love the gentleman_."

" _And I'll be sworn upon't that he loves her!_ " exclaimed Lucius as he waved a piece of crumpled and much flattened parchment in his hand. " _For here's a paper written in his hand, a halting sonnet of his own pure brain, fashion'd to Hermione._ "

Hermione snatched the parchment up and began to read it intently. Severus glared at his friend, attempting to teleport the other wizard into Azkaban with his stare alone.

" _And here's another_ ," Ginny cried, having appeared out of nowhere, waving another piece of parchment in front of Snape's face. " _Writ in my friend's hand, stolen from her pocket, containing her affection unto Snape._ "

Severus grasped the parchment and read it quickly before Hermione could snatch it out of his hands. He stared at it and then at her, noticing the tremble in her eyes that shimmered like flames in amber. He stepped into her, his hand pressing against her cheek as she leaned into it. "You love me?"

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. "I do. Do you really love one such as I?"

"More than anything," Severus whispered, the pang of longing in his heart caused his abused and often neglected organ to trip over a few beats. "I would have you at my side until the end of all things."

" _I would not deny you this,_ " Hermione whispered, staring into his dark black eyes once again, "but are you sure that it is me you—"

" _Peace!_ " Severus muttered against her lips. " _I will stop your mouth._ "

Severus' mouth covered hers as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Finally!" Harry breathed from beside the punchbowl. "I thought they'd never do it."

"That is literally the worst thing ever!" Ron blurted, spitting out his punch.

" _Obliviate_!" Ginny hissed, pointing her wand at her brother.

They were married that very same night. Kingsley just happened to be there to officiate. Draco had strangely already invited all the right people to attend. There was more than enough food for everyone, and people already had wedding gifts for both new couples. It was amazing how things just happened to work out.

Well, there was the exception of Ronald Weasley. He was out cold under the punch table with his head transfigured into that of an ass, complete with long, fuzzy ears. No one seemed to notice the difference.

 _Fin._


End file.
